SUICIDE OUTBREAK: Round Two

Cure #2: Faith, War, and Sergeant Crayton Carascal

Cure #2: Faith, War, and Sergeant Crayton Carascal

The world is a paradox; a place too wide for everyone, yet everybody chooses to crowd in a narrow box.

Sergeant Crayton Carascal takes the last of his cigar to his lips as he sits down under the shade of a huge tree. His face is contorted into a smile, revealing certain numbers of gashes he has acquired from his long years of being in the military. The Sergeant's not particularly proud of the cuts, but he has grown accustomed to it that it doesn't really bother him. Besides, it makes him look ragged, cool, and superior among others.

Blowing the smoke through his crooked nose, Crayton lets his eyes wander over his soldiers. There are at least fifty men dressed in military uniforms around him; some are taking their rest, while others are devouring their food. Crayton's eyes move from head to head, probably thinking who among these soldiers know how grave their situation is, and who among them will make it out there alive.

"Think we'd end up like them, do you, Alex?"

Crayton's ears instantly perk up. The voice is all too familiar to him, and he doesn't need to constantly move his head to look for the speaker. Private Officer Jayson Delgado's standing proud under another shade of the nearby tree, deeply engaged in a conversation with soldier Alex Luna. Of all the men around him, the two are Crayton's most trusted comrades.

"Like who?" Alex asks, pulling out the magazine of his pistol to check its cartridges.

Delgado snorts at Alex and tightens the grip around his M16A1 rifle. "Who do you think else? The Fallen, of course."

Crayton sees Alex cringe, and he can't really blame the Junior Officer. The name comes with a high price, a title given to the brave forty-four soldiers who died 10 years ago fighting for the country. They are considered Heroes of the Generation.

Yet, another flaw in the system, Crayton thinks. Getting all the acknowledgment that you want after sacrificing your life fighting for the Greater Good, as the new President puts it, is what the Sergeant considered an utter bullshit.

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Crayton inhales. It is an attempt to keep his temper in check. Whenever the subject about The Fallen and the government is mentioned, his anger genes always act up. To distract himself, Crayton watches Alex put the gun back to its holster as the Junior Officer looks at the vast cerulean sky. He wonders if Alex is trying to figure out how much daylight they've got left.

"You just can't scratch that possibility, can you?" Alex replies. "We're in the same place, and pretty much at the same time."

Delgado chortles, and crosses his arms over his chest. "You scared now, Alex?"

Crayton knows for a fact that the two are standing on exactly two opposite poles. While Alex is the diplomatic type, one who will choose to fight the battle using words, Jayson is the one who fights using every weapon he can use at his disposal for the sake of his country, no matter how high the cost. While the former will choose to keep his faith in things intact, the latter, on the other hand, will defy his faith to protect those that are important to him. To Crayton, it's still a wonder how those two get along so well.

"I'm not scared," Alex retorts. "I'm just saying that it's a possibility."

"Of course," Jayson puts in, "but if things don't go according to plan, we will use this." He taps his rifle and gives Alex his Cheshire smile. "I hope those fuckers' bodies are hungry enough to eat bullets."

Alex fidgets -- a habit he does whenever he hears Jayson say something like that, as though they have a better option, a better way to deal with the situation at hand.